


Mama loves you

by Arithanas



Series: Love Demands Sacrifices [1]
Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: Child Abandonment, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1634, Madrid. On the circumstances by which Marie de Rohan could not keep her son. Marie Michon's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mama loves you

The boy stirred in her arms, desperate as always it was his feeding time. Marie stroked the head full of soft hair, the curls that graced the top of his head were almost brown with blond highlights; a strange color, one which will certainly change as the child grows. She began to untie the laces of her bodice with her left hand, observing that wrinkled face with eyes closed and mouth pursed, her baby was about to utter a cry, demanding to be feed. This little boy was born to command men in battle, and for this, the good Lord had given him a good pair of lungs that suffer not from the heat of Spain.

A small mouth was closed around the nipple, that boy was drinking milk as it was the last of the world, instead of bawling his eyes out. She was still surprised by that common sense demonstrated by such a small creature; she was sure that that was not a characteristic that she possessed. A small hand was laid upon the white breast with a possessive gesture that none of the other babies had shown. Kitty always called him 'love child' but the label was incorrect and inappropriate; her little man was a 'lust child', the product of an affair that lasted only one night. He was the son of a man whom she did not know the name and of which she did not even remember the face. Of course, she had not foreseen such a result for that adventure.

While her baby was suckling on his food with fierce determination, Marie wondered, as usual, why she let him live. Nothing would have been easier than terminate her pregnancy; even in Spain, finding an unscrupulous midwife or an apothecary with pantry full of abortifacients herbs required almost no effort. Those were resources she had used previously —between his two marriages and behind her current husband's back— and, as the first signs appeared, she thought of resorting to them once again, but decided against it. 'Another folly of Madame,' Kitty had remarked when Marie informed her that she would keep the baby. Yes, that decision was insane, but, when the quickening came, the Duchess of Chevreuse was convinced that she made the right choice.

Kitty entered the room, fully dressed in her traveling attire, this time she will make her journey with a skirt. The Duchess smiled remembering another trip done with man knickers. Shaking her head and muttering to herself, the young Englishwoman took the shawl from the bed and wrapped her mistress' shoulders, disapproving such a display of impudence. A sad smile responded to the words of gratitude from the Duchess and, without comment, she began collecting the baby's few earthly possessions.

"My little man," she cooed, caressing that bare head, trying to ignore the noises that Kitty made behind her back , "I'm happy that you have a big appetite for you have a long journey ahead..."

The baby stopped sucking and opened his eyes, those brown eyes were so beautiful and so expressive... the child had responded to the tone of her voice but his intelligence didn't allowed him to understand that this was a farewell. His lips and his hand returned to the urgent matter that interested him most.

"Mommy loves you, little man, but mommy cannot have you by her side as she had dreamed that she would..." the Duchess did not know why she felt he had to explain to a child who could not understand her, but that did not deter her. "Mommy's husband was not happy to hear that you were born healthy and the last time he wrote, he clearly indicated that health was something that you'd lose soon. Mommy loves her baby and that is why she has to let him go..."

Kitty was used to hear her mistress talk to the baby — she was incorrigibly talkative — but the tone and the words made her hide her face in a linen baby blanket. The cuckolded husband had considered that a child was too much affront to his ruined honor. The letter from the Duke of Chevreuse was written in such terms that they feared infanticide was the smallest of his plans of revenge, he could do much more, and let him live in the most abject misery. That was too much risk for a mother and, almost against her will, the Duchess had made a sensible decision.

"Mom is sending you home to your father, my little man, he will surely be a good man and take care of you..."

The Englishwoman made an upset gesture; she was angry with herself for crying and with Madame for trusting a village priest, hoping that his Christian charity was better than his vow of chastity. The sobs softened her anger, they reminded her that Madame had only two choices and none of them was a good one.

The baby let out a cry, it was impossible for him to understand what was happening, but like all children, he felt compelled to express his solidarity if his mother was sobbing. Kitty slung the baby's bag over her shoulder and ran to the mother and child. Kitty felt the farewell, but she also had to admit that her mind was in the long hours in the carriage with a colicky baby; Marie had leaned the child against her shoulder and the lady-in-waiting embrace them both.

"I didn't want to cry..." the Duchess said apologetically as she stroked the baby's back.

"I can't see how Madame could help it," the maid of honor said pulling out his handkerchief to wipe her mistress' tears.

"As soon as he fell asleep, Kitty..."

"I take the carriage to France and make sure that the child arrives with his father; I go through Brittany and collect that bill's amount; and then, I go to England and seek house and servants for your arrival this November. Did I understand you right, Madame?"

"Yes, Kitty, you got it right," admitted the Duchess still stroking the crying baby.

"It is great fortune, because Madame had to repeat it only thirty-five times from yesterday to today..."

The Duchess had wanted to smile, but the sigh of the child announced that sleep had fallen on him. Kitty also noticed this fact and without too much fuss, she pulled the laces her mistress' bodice. That gesture was well intentioned —she sought to help her— but still, to Marie, that cloth over their breasts full of milk was as mournful as a blanket over the face of a corpse; and Kitty, with her arms opened to receive the baby, seemed as frightening as an executioner on the scaffold. But that was only nonsense, and she had to resign herself to hand over the child for his own good.

Marie would have given ten years of her life for this moment would never have to come.

"Mommy shall find you, my little man..." she promised, depositing one last kiss on the forehead of the child.

Kitty took the baby from her arms and left the room in haste, without stopping to do courtesies; the Duchess understood it too well, Kitty had felt that she would lack the courage if she stopped to say goodbye, and, quite frankly, if she had taken a pause, Marie would have reversed her orders. The Duchess of Chevreuse remained seated, with her eyes closed, as Kitty's footsteps died away in the corridor, trying not to show how much it hurt to know that she was carrying her baby away.

"May God be with you, François," Marie begged, feeling the tears flowed, "and may His Blessed Mother watch over you wherever you go, my son."

The carriage wheels resounded on the paved road, taking with them a piece Marie de Rohan's heart.


End file.
